Fanfiction: Star Wars: A lost Soul news

Amelia stood on the balcony of her apartment on Hosnian. The galaxy-wide Civil War had ended almost a year ago, and yet she felt lost.
She was happy democracy was back, and though she was not around when the Republic originally existed, she enjoyed its return, too.
Her only problem was that she was now lost. She knew where she was, she just felt out of place. When the war came to her planet, she had just finished school.
Weeks after her graduation, fighting began raging on her planet when the Empire declared martial law. Originally un-bothered by the Empire,
she was forced to join the Rebel Alliance when the Empire forced her to work in one of their factories. Outside of school, war is all she had known.
Now she must adapt to a life that seems strange to her.

With the government reducing the military by 90%, she was now jobless and without direction. The pension from the N.R. was enough to ensured her apartment,
utitiles, and some food in her fridge every month, but not much more than that. Not that it mattered much, as she already had everything she needed.
"(Sigh.) I wonder what everyone else is doing..." She thought to herself as she continued to look out at the big city from her balcony.
Neon night lights filled the city up top, while fog and people filled the streets. Hosnian was truly something from a noir novel, but more picturesque, or so it seamed.

Amelia pulled her datapad from her belt, and began viewing photo's of days gone by. She swiped the screen viewing each photo intensely one after another.
One mark "leaving Hoth", and in the photo, her standing next to a transport while her friends and some droids walk up a ramp. Amelia thought to herself,
"Hoth, Hoth, Hoth... I believe we lost that battle." She swipes to the next photo. This one marked as "Policing on Sullust." Standing next to her, a guy she had loved,
and some members of the 61st Mobile Infantry walking a long street. "Kayleb, I wish we could have been... I so need you right now."

She gives a big sigh, then swipes to the next photo. Marked as "Saying goodbye on Jakku." Amelia viewed this photo the longest and remembers everything about it quite well.
Though the photo was little more than a year old, it felt so long ago. Still she could recall the day almost perfectly.
The photo was taken in an angle to avoid most of the debris covering the landscape around her. Behind her, a picturesque background of the desert and sky,
but a few feet to the left out of the photo, was burning wreckage, while behind the camera was a former battlefield now covered with debris. Just before the photo was taken,
she remembers everyone taking about the war ending soon. At the time, she did not believe them, but they were correct. Jakku was where she fought her final battle in the Galactic Civil War,
and was the last time she was with all of her comrades. A few weeks later, she was honorably discharged from the military, spent many months drifting from planet to planet,
before finding her self here.

Amelia taps her datapad - switching it off. Then walks back in to her apartment. The glass door drops down behind her and locks after she steps off her balcony. She continues towards her bedroom.
The night is very young, and the sky appears to be a deep dark blue outside of her window. She walks to her bed, tosses her datapad on it and sits to pull-off her shoes and socks, then
stands back up, un-straps her belt and drops her pants, she then lets down her hair, removes her shirt, and crawls into bed. She had nowhere to go, no direction,
nothing to do, and the ones she called her friends, were now scattered somewhere throughout the galaxy. Amelia laid under her covers grasping her pillow until she quietly fell asleep.

(Ding, ding.) Amelia wakes up shocked and surprised. (Ding, ding.) Her doorbell rings again. She grabs the clock next to her bed. According to it, she has been asleep for little more than three hours. (Ding, ding.) In a quiet yet angry tone she utters "Who would want to visit me?" (Ding, ding.) She grabs a nightgown laying on her chair and exits her bedroom.
While walking down the hall she slips on and buttons her nightgown, then approaches her front door. (Ding, ding.) "If this is my neighbors attempting to sell me some vice again,
I am grabbing my old CA-87 blaster." She taps the button to open the door, and in a angry tone of voice she says "Wha-" but immediately stops "...What? ..."
Her tone of voice quickly changes as she becomes happy to the point of crying.